Snow and Ember
by Halfjaw101
Summary: A dimensional collision rips a hole between Jon's world and another, pouring odd creatures into his world. Various creatures befriend important people and help with the ongoing war for freedom and the Throne.


**In the middle of 2012 my boyfriend and I started an RP called Snow and Ember. He was Jon Snow, and I was my drakin character, Silica. We've been writing in it since then and it is my absolute favorite roleplay ever. I dreamed the story below, which is based on the roleplay, using the same name and 'main' characters, while also making it my own story.**

**Wouldn't have happened without you babe! So I'm dedicating this to you, not just the chapter but the whole story. :)**

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**I do not own the television series Game of Thrones or any of the characters in it. What I do own is everything here that doesn't belong in GoT - Silica, my drakin, and this plot.**

**Read and enjoy!**

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**_Snow and Ember_**

_The Wall. A place for a man to go if he had no place in the world - a place for rapers, thieves, murderers, bastards, losers. A place where a man's past was wiped clean as the snow there and he could start anew: a Man of the Night's Watch._

_The bastard of Lord Eddard Stark, Jon Snow, came to The Wall for a better shot at proving he was more than he was treated... However, he was not expecting to become tangled up in a mess that should never have happened..._

**_- The Wall, 11.5, eighteen hours past -_**

Jon Snow was smiling when he stepped onto the elevator that would take him to the top of the Wall. His heavyset friend, Sam, stepped in with him, watching him. "Did something happen, Jon...? After all the bad news I never thought you'd smile again..."

Smiling did seem impossible after learning of the death of his father - and knowing he'd now never hear of his mother - and the invasion of his home of Winterfell. "To be honest, Sam, I don't know... I just woke up with this feeling of... wholeness... I haven't seen anything particularly happy, and I certainly haven't thought anything... I just... am..."

And the unnatural smile was gone, his face returning to its original pouting puppy-dog look. "Well, Jon, don't let them catch you with that look on your face. They might think you've taken a liking to one of the boys."

Jon's lip curled in mild disgust. "Of course I haven't... I'm no sodomite." The thought was more than just mildly disgusting to him, but he didn't want to seem like he was over-defending himself... That usually meant the defense was a lie. His heavy brows flew up when he heard Sam's next words. "I admire them, actually."

"What do you mean, you 'admire them'?"

By that point, the pair had traversed a section of the Wall, and were at their station. He leaned against the wall of ice and rock, the ice dry enough to offer traction to his boots so he didn't slip right off. He looked out at the abstractly beautiful terrain of nothing but cold and death, then back at his friend, who hadn't answered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean they're not afraid to show their love. It's obvious they're not going to send a raven telling everyone... but they still don't hide it from each other..." He was quiet for a minute, looking out, slowly getting over his acrophobia that way. "I don't understand why everyone treats them so badly."

Jon furrowed his brows, tilting his head, his thick curls resting on his shoulder for a second. He scoffed, and shook his head. "They like having another man's cock shoved up their ass, that's why. It isn't natural to like that."

Sam sighed, and nodded, deciding to drop the subject before Jon questioned his orientation. He definitely did not like boys but the words he just spoke made it sound like he could've. So he decided to save himself with his normal conversation starter...

"I miss girls..."

Jon paused, and looked at him, then laughed. "Oh Sam, will there ever be a time you don't? You say you miss them nearly every night."

"I do! Not... Not necessarily being with them, s-since I've never really... y'know, been with one... But just seeing them. You know? Their faces, and their hips, and their..." His hands touched his chest, showing what he meant to him, since he could never really bring himself to say any of the words used for them.

Jon nodded, still looking out. "I believe the word you're looking for is 'breasts'," he added softly with a smile. He respected women in a way, especially now that he could never be with one. He'd tried, once, with a beautiful redhead named Ros. He'd come quite close to actually getting undressed himself, his nether regions aching to meet the inner depths of the woman. But being raised as a bastard boy in the house of the woman Eddard had been unfaithful to... Bringing a bastard into the world was a cruel act, one he would not take part in. So he had paid Ros for her trouble and promptly left to cool and calm down. Whenever he had thoughts of it, or said a particular part, Ros' body would appear in his mind. The female body was art, in his mind.

"Yes... those..." The heavier boy took a hesitant step forward and peeked out, then quickly shuffled back. He was his watching partner, but he suffered a fear of heights... With the Wall being over a quarter mile in height, it definitely bothered him to look out. Jon, though, height didn't really bother him. It was far enough away at the moment to be safe... Save the thought of falling. But he was as sure footed as a mule... Sam was not. Yet another reason he stayed away from the edge.

"Jon, what would you do if you fell?"

"Die."

"If you lived the fall somehow?"

"I would most likely be too broken to do anything. Even if I somehow survived the fall, I would die of my injuries... And don't ask about if I didn't get hurt."

"Alright, alright, just trying to start up a conversation... You usually just stare out there quietly, and I can't tell if you're just thinking or sleeping with your eyes open... You jump just the same for either if interrupted..."

"... The blizzard's picking up... We won't have to stay up here long, soon we won't be able to see any- ...Did you hear that?"

He turned to look at Sam, who shook his head. Jon swore he heard a scream in the wind, not too faintly either. Meaning the owner of the scream was at the top of the Wall. He started back, the winds starting to howl, whipping him in the face with ice and his hair. They were picking up frighteningly fast, and their vision was dwindling at the same rate. He heard the scream again, seemingly from right on top of him, and looked up just in time to see the wood above him shatter. Something slammed into him and threw him back toward the hole, sliding. Before he knew it, his stomach and other internal organs were lifting as he fell through. His arms flailed for a second or two before coming into contact with something. He immediately grabbed onto it, and his fall was slowed considerably. Wind, stronger than the winds of the blizzard, slammed into him from the sides, knocking the air out of him bit by bit.

A deep searing pain ripped through his arm, enough to cause him to cry out, and he looked at it. At his elbow, three long talons had sunk in deep, two in his forearm and one in his upper. Blood bubbled out above the black shirt and coat, painting the... leg, he had grabbed. He let go with one arm to try and pry the talons out but started slipping, the wounds tearing. Once again he voiced his pain but held on tight, tears leaking out, teeth gritted. His ears were raped by the sounds of pained and terrified screeches. The blizzard winds bashed himself and what he was holding onto into the Wall. They hit four or five times more, then suddenly smacked into solid frozen earth, the talons being ripped free of his arm, the owner being thrown as he tumbled a time or two. He came to a stop and went limp, belly down in the snow, face to the side, unconscious. The snow beneath his arm started turning red as he continued to bleed, but the extreme cold was quickly making those bloodways constrict, preventing him from bleeding out quickly, saving his life while also taking it...

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"HELP!"

Sam quickly ran from the elevator, yelling for help, creating quite a racket and drawing quite the crowd of Watchmen. The Lord Commander then came out. "What are you yelling for, boy? Did you see something out there?"

Samwell Tarly panted and cried, but managed to speak for Mormont. "J-Jon fell! We... We need to go out there and get him...!"

Silence fell over the Watchmen, Mormont looking shocked. The older man then looked down, sighing. "You know there's no way he survived the fall..."

"He did! I know he did! S-Something fell from the sky a-and hit him... it fell with him...! He's alive, I-I know it, Lord C-Commander, I know he's al-alive... Please, we have t-to go get him!"

If the Lord Commander hadn't known any better, he would've described the look in Sam's eyes as insanity. But it wasn't. The boy honestly believed the northern bastard was alive, that he'd somehow survived the fall. "I know where he is, s-sir... He fell from-."

"I know where, son."

Mormont turned to Benjen Stark, First Ranger of the Night's Watch, and sighed. He wore an apologetic look on his face. "Take two of your boys and search for him... Close to the Wall. If he fell he shouldn't've gone far... Light boy but not _that_ light."

Benjen nodded, face carefully emotionless, then turned to collect two other Rangers and get them ready to go search. He stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "And Benjen... I'm sorry."

Green eyes flashed in his sharp face. "Thank you... but he's alive. I can feel it."

He and two other Rangers rode through the tunnel to the other side of the Wall. Once outside, Benjen stopped them, and spoke through the blizzard. "If he did survive, there is no way he would be conscious! We need to search quickly or it's the cold that will be the death of him! If he was lucky he met the shelves on the way down, which would have bounced him out relatively far from the Wall itself, a hundred feet or more! Follow me and stay within shouting distance so we don't all ending up looking for each other as well as Jon!"

Benjen looked at them as they nodded, then turned his mount left and tapped its flanks, urging it into a gallop, hoping to beat the clock that played with Jon's life.

* * *

The first thing that alerted Jon to his own consciousness was he could feel. What he felt made him wish he couldn't... He felt extreme cold and excruciating pain. He wanted to do nothing but sleep, and he started to, letting himself slip back into unconsciousness, when he remembered what happened. He sluggishly opened his eyes, achieving it halfway, and saw an odd sight. A beautiful woman was leaning over him, looking frightened and sad, then relieved when she noticed his eyes opened. He blinked, and to him it felt like it was a mere second or less, but when he opened his eyes again, the scene had changed. It was getting dark... He could still see the little bit that he could, but he guessed maybe another half hour before it would be too dark. "You... a Wildling...?"

No answer. He blinked again, this one not another hour pause, then opened his eyes more. She was gone. He looked around, eyes narrowed against the wind, and saw her disappear. "W-Wait...!"

Jon grunted and tried to sit up, but he was too cold and sore, and his arm burned. Then he heard hooves and horses breathing, and searched for it. "Hello...? Hello...!"

Suddenly light burned through the snow and fog, and Jon was relieved to see his uncle, Benjen Stark. The older man nearly flew off his horse to run to Jon's aid, looking him over. "Move your arms... legs... hands and feet... head? Gods, you're okay...!"

Benjen pulled Jon into a hug, then helped him up onto his horse, sitting behind him. He turned the horse and his Rangers around, finding the Wall first before heading to the tunnel, pushing them hard to get his nephew out of the cold quickly. He'd been out for three hours... He'd be lucky if he didn't lose anything to the cold.

"Uncle, what... What about the woman?"

Benjen looked at Jon as if he was mad. "Woman? Jon, there is no woman out there... Not this close to the Wall. The Wildlings stay in the trees, you know this."

Then they were in the tunnel, momentarily shielded from the winds. He stopped them and pulled the lantern up high, looking in Jon's eyes. His pupils barely reacted to the light. "You hit your head on the way down... You must've been seeing things, boy."

Benjen continued the little group, letting the others ride ahead, walking the horse the rest of the way. Wind started beating on them again, and they were in Castle Black, surrounded by a crowd of boys and men looking awed that he was bringing in a living body, instead of the remains that hadn't splattered. He hopped off the horse, then helped Jon to his quarters. "Any wounds, Jon?"

The teenager peeled his coat off, then his shirt, revealing the deep, ragged wounds on his elbow. Benjen touched then lightly, knowing they were numb from the cold. "I'll get a doctor. You get warm."

Another man came in not long after he left, a small smile on his face, holding a bag and a pot of steaming water. "I'm Tomnson. I heard you took a little tumble. How did you survive?"

Tomnson had Jon sit, putting the water on the table next to the bed, dipping a cloth in and wiping the wounds. After they were clean he picked out the plug, washed them again, then did his best with the odd wounds.

"Honestly, I don't know... I grabbed onto something and rode it down... I don't know what it was."

Tomnson nodded, and continued closing Jon's arm. When he was done, he wrapped it bent at the elbow, then fashioned a sling. "Don't use your arm until they're just scars."

"But, my swor-."

"Can wait. If you use it you can cause some real, serious damage. Right now it looks like it will heal without complications, except maybe an occasional flare in the future. But it otherwise will be fine. No bones broken and nothing torn too badly." He paused, shuffling out the door, turning to look at him. "How /did/ you survive?"

Jon blinked, then shook his head. "I really don't know... I grabbed onto something... it had claws. Made me think of a dragon. Of the pictures I've seen of them."

Tomnson nodded. "Aye, it would be but a juvenile if that small... But it wouldn't have dropped you. It would have carried you off... Wouldn't be this north anyway."

Jon nodded, looking down. He stayed seated on his bed for a little while, then stood, struggling into a shirt and coat, hanging his cloak over and struggling to secure it with only one arm. He left Longclaw where it lay, then hobbled out the door, nearly running into Mormont. "What are you doing up, Snow?"

"My duties..."

The Lord Commander shook his head, gently turning Jon back in to his room. "No. You've just been out in the cold for three hours after falling from the top of the Wall. You will stay in your bed and get warm. I don't want to see you until the week is out. I'll send someone in with something warm for you."

Mormont turned, closing the door, leaving Jon looking rather jiggered. But he obeyed, removing his cloak and boots, crawling under the covers, trying to get warm. Thinking about it he was positively freezing, and his fingers, nose, and ears stung madly. He had just started to lose the sting when Sam walked in, holding a tray of food. He closed the door, walking over, setting it in Jon's lap once he was sitting. "Here's your food, Jon... The Lord Commander asked me to deliver it since I was the one that told him we had to search for you... I'll be covering your duties as well for a little bit, until you're back on your feet."

Jon smiled a little smile, nodded, and started eating. Warm food in his frozen stomach felt amazing. Sam stayed in the room. "How'd you do it, Jon? You fell and survived without any injuries..."

The bastard shook his head, pointing to his right arm before taking another bite, clearing his mouth before speaking. "I'm not uninjured though. I can't use my arm."

"Did you break it?"

Jon shook his head again. "No... I... I got clawed. Four deep puncture wounds on the elbow."

"From what?"

Jon was quiet for a while, contemplating on whether he should tell Sam what exactly he saw. It wasn't much, but even the much-shortened version had made his own uncle look at him like he was mad. Finally, after finishing his food, he spoke. "A woman... With wings. And the feet of a dragon... and silver eyes." He looked up at Sam, then furrowed his brow, noticing his fat friend was trying to hold in laughter. "Go ahead and laugh, but it's what I saw."

Sam's face went serious, looking at Jon's. "You're not joking..."

"No, I'm not. That's what I saw... She ran into the blizzard when Benjen found me... I can't get her eyes out of my mind, they were like liquid silver... There was no light around us but they glistened anyway..."

Sam smiled teasingly. "Was she pretty?"

Jon frowned, and parted his lips to tell him to leave off it, then stopped, and decided to answer truthfully. "Yes... She was. Her face was flawless, and her lips were... full, so soft looking..."

Sam nodded, watching his friend's face, then took another step forward, closer. "Alright... Here, I'll take that. You get some rest."

Jon nodded. "Thank you, Sam. I owe you for this."

Sam nodded to the thanks, and left. Jon sighed, and sat in bed for a good while, seeing the girl's face over and over in his mind. Had he just made her up? Or had there actually been a girl out there in the blizzard, watching to make sure he would live? Jon's curls bounced as he shook his head to himself, and laid down, jolting his arm and gasping in pain. Ghost whined and rested his head on the edge of the bed, barking softly. "No, Ghost, you can't lay up here... The bed isn't strong enough for a human and a direwolf... Sorry, boy."

He reached over and pet the soft white fur. Ghost growled lowly and non-threateningly in defeat, laying down next to the bed. Jon smiled softly, then sighed, and carefully lowered himself down the bed and onto his back, then rolled onto his good side. "Good night, Ghost."

A huff replied, and Jon went to sleep with a grin on his face and a weak laugh in his heart.

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**- Castle Black, 21.5, seven hours past-**

Jon woke in his bed, arm stiff but a little less sore than it had been. He looked down, and chuckled sleepily, seeing Ghost's head on his arm. "Taking care of my arm, Ghost?"

The direwolf lifted his head, wagging his tail twice and allowing Jon to move his arm. He sat up and moved it a little, then slowly pulled it out of its sleeve and lifted his shirt to have a look at it. According to the doctor they were half as deep as they had been and not as wide. He was allowed to start using it again, encouraged actually. Needed to keep it strong. He was also allowed to leave his bed and room and resume his duties - that had happened six days ago. He was thankful for that... he much preferred being a steward to Mormont over laying in his bed, able to do nothing. He wasn't even able to look after Longclaw or Ghost, and he wouldn't have anyone else do that.

Everything was getting back to the way it had been before his fall... He got his arm back into his shirt, then his coat, then his cloak, grabbing Longclaw and strapping it around his waist. He wanted to practice with it now that it didn't hurt too much to use his arm. He stood outside his door, taking a breath of the icy air before closing the door and making his way out, flexing his arm slowly to work it loose before using it a lot. He had just drawn his sword, smiling a little at the familiar weight, when he heard a similarly familiar voice. "Snow!"

Jon turned, sheathing the sword. "I was on my way, I had just hop-."

"That's not what I'm here about. I won't need you for a few hours. I want to hear your story."

Jon paused, then looked down, his face darkening a little. "Did Sam tell you?"

Mormont stopped in front of him, clearing his throat softly. "Samwell told me nothing. That is why I am here, asking you to tell me."

The northern bastard looked down, nodding once, playing with his gloves. "How much of it?"

"Everything. How did you fall, how did you live? Why was your elbow the only thing that got hurt, and how did it get hurt?" The older man paused, taking a breath, then looked at him closer. "What happened, boy?"

Jon cleared his throat, nodding again, curls bouncing. "Honestly, Lord Commander, every time I think about it, it becomes clearer I was seeing and hearing things... Up on the wall I heard screaming, but it wasn't human. It crashed through and threw me off... I grabbed on and rode it down, and it grabbed back. It was the leg of a dragon... and there were wings..." He glanced up at his superior, and knew he wasn't believing it just from his emotionless face, but he continued anyway. "When I woke up there was a woman in front of me... Then Benjen found me, but she was gone."

Mormont nodded, then sighed softly, looking closely at him. "I didn't believe the Tarly boy when he said you were alive, yet here you are. That story was bordering fantasy. /This/ one, though? Dragons? A woman in a blizzard that watched over you until you were found? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

Jon cleared his throat, nodded, them lifted his face to look at him. "Yes, my Lord... I do."

Mormont sighed and shook his head. "Do you just not know how any of that happened?"

Jon paused, brown eyes flashing briefly under his heavy brow. "Ridiculous as it sounds, if my story doesn't explain everything... nothing can."

"Very well, Jon... if anything else rises to memory, tell me."

Jon watched Mormont leave, then drew Longclaw and started hacking at the practice dummy with special ferocity. He was just finishing up, sheathing the sword and turning around, when he saw Sam approaching. "How's your arm, Jon?"

"It's a little sore now but I can still use it." He paused, and sighed, walking with Sam to the elevator. It was time to watch. "No one believes me, Sam... Benjen, Pyp, Mormont... no one."

Sam looked at him, quiet for a second, then smiled. "I believe you."

Jon looked at him, actually looking a little surprised, then smiled when they got in the elevator. "Thanks Sam."

Sam nodded, and patted his shoulder. They watched as the ground slowly shrank away. Upon arriving, Jon walked to where he'd fallen, looking up at the patched hole. "I don't think I'll be seeing that woman again... I'm not even sure I really did see her."

"Then what hurt your arm?"

Jon shrugged, looking out before sitting next to the flames, stoking them. He stared more at them than out past the Wall the whole time, standing at the end. "I have to get the Lord Commander's supper."

Sam nodded, and they made their way back.

It was later than Jon thought it was. As he entered the kitchen to make the Lord Commander his plate, it was rather empty. He was the only one in there, in fact. Fires burned lowly to keep food warm, but it was still darker than otherwise. He sighed, wincing slightly, knowing Mormont wouldn't be pleased, and started dishing food onto a plate. He paused, hearing a clatter, and looked to the side. A shadow played against the wall... but there was something off about it. Fearing one of the Others had made their way in somehow - somehow - he drew Longclaw, grabbed a torch and crept to the door. His back pressed against the narrow wall, he peered around the corner, breathing lowly to keep quiet. What he saw made him pause and just stare, thinking, _'_I_ knew it... I **was **right...'_

Rummaging through storage sacks and crates was the woman he had been talking about, though now he got a better look at her. Her legs were scaled and bent like that of a dragon, ending in wicked talons. A thick tail wound around from her backside, and a band of scales covered her sides, with thicker plates covering those. The tops of her arms were completely scaled and padded, and her hands, fingers plated and tipped with claws. Her face, throat, and entire front were skin and human, though sprouting from her forehead were two devil-like horns, about the size of his thumb. Above those, five flat-faced horns curved over her head and ended at the base of her skull, where red braids cascaded over her neck and shoulders, three spikes poking off of each. Wings, rather small looking, were attached to her shoulders, shifting about constantly. Full lips parted and revealed the sharp teeth of a carnivore as she dug into some smoked meat, chewing hungrily.

Jon snapped out of his trance, and rounded the corner, sword up and ready for use. "Hey!"

The dragon woman looked up with round silver eyes, a screech of surprise leaving her mouth as she dropped the meat. Then she launched herself at him, snarling, using her shoulder spikes to glance his sword off and away from her. Instead of attacking him, she leaped off him and continued running.

Jon scrambled up into his feet and chased her, sheathing his sword on the way so he didn't stab anyone who might have still been out. "Ghost!"

The white direwolf fought his way out of Jon's quarters, then ran to his aid. Jon pointed at the fleeing creature, and Ghost picked up speed, snarling at the woman. She screeched in fear and sped up, splaying her wings, which suddenly seemed much larger. She flapped once, gaining air, then tumbled and fell to the ground when she suddenly had a large wolf on her. Ghost went after her neck when she was on the ground, not to kill but to pin, trying to keep her on her belly.

But she had a different idea, she rolled and fought with him, until finally Ghost was above her, on his paws, and she below on her back, her talons met his belly and sides. Ghost yelped and screamed in pain, writhing off her, white fur turning red.

"_NO__!_"

Jon ran up and pinned the creature himself, holding Longclaw to her throat. Two Watchmen ran up and pinned her, letting Jon leave and tend to Ghost, who was whimpering and just laying there. The bleeding had slowed, and upon inspection he learned the scratches weren't even all that deep. He sighed in relief, petting Ghost's head. "It's okay, boy. You did great."

Jon looked up, then back at the Watchmen. "Put her in a cell, leave her alive..."

They looked at him, then nodded. She struggled as they tried to lift her, so one hit her over the head to knock her out, or at least give her a message. She screamed in pain, and collapsed, offering no resistance as they lifted her and dragged her off. Jon lifted Ghost, and more or less dragged him to his quarters, laying him on his bed after dressing him. "Rest, Ghost. You'll be okay."

He stroked Ghost's face, then sighed and let his head hang, fisting his hands. Then he stood and walked out, making his way quickly to the captive creature, face dark and eyes dangerous. The glare from them could have frozen someone solid. The Warden at first tried to stop him when he reached the door, then sighed and opened it for him, closing it after. Jon walked through the dim stone hall, then came to a stop in front of the bars of a cell, looking at the dragon creature within. "What are you?"

She didn't answer, only looked at him with hurt in her silver orbs. Jon felt no sympathy for this creature at the time, only anger for hurting Ghost. "_WHAT ARE YOU?_"_  
_

She shrank back, whimpering, curling up in a ball. She was only like that in a second before she launched herself at the bars and hit, reaching an arm through and clawing at him, snarling. Jon stumbled back, barely missing the skin of his face being split open, then slammed his fist against the bars, making her retreat again. He sighed softly, and shook his head, still giving her a dark look. "You're lucky you're still alive. The only reason is because you saved my life not too long ago. If you want to stay alive, you need to behave. That means no resistance, and no attacking."

He paused for a second, wondering if she even understood him. Her frightened look made him think she could. He sighed and spoke again before leaving.

"Welcome to the Wall."

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**For those who want to see what Silica is supposed to look like: volturon . deviantart art/Silica-2-354719808?ga_submit_new=10%253A1361062069 - ****Just remember to remove the spaces and add 'dot com forwardslash' after 'deviantart'.**

**If you have a satisfactory mental image that you'd prefer to keep, don't look. **


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